"Now don't be sulky. You'll only make matters worse by trying to bluff us. And goodness knows they're bad enough as it is."
"Oh, to think how we've been disappointed in you!" interposed Bickerton, who had taken up a position on the fender. "To think how we've cherished this viper in our bosom!" And he raised his hands in mock despair.
"Now don't be an ass, Bicky," said Stanley, who deemed that a Court of Inquiry over which he presided was much too weighty an affair to be approached with levity; "it's no joking matter. The kid's in a beastly mess, and, when he owns up, we must try to get him off as lightly as possible. I think perhaps we've let this youth and his chum, the Gray Doe, get too cheeky, and to that extent we're to blame.... Now, Ray, answer me some questions. Did you get a thousand lines from our revered housemaster, Carpet—Mr. Fillet?"
"Yes."
"When did you complete them?"
"Yesterday afternoon."
"In short, on the afternoon immediately preceding the tragedy which took place in the microscopic hours of this morning?"
"Yes, I s'pose so."
"That's a remarkable coincidence, isn't it?"
"I'm bothered if I see why."